


It's Not Favoritism!

by Remianly



Series: Prince Arthur's Favorite [1]
Category: Merlin (TV), Merlin/Arthur - Fandom
Genre: Canon Era, Denial of Feelings, Friendship/Love, Humor, Implied Slash, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, Oblivious Arthur, Oblivious Merlin, arthur in denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 03:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15015551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remianly/pseuds/Remianly
Summary: Arthur is finding all sorts of reasons to explain how he is most certainly not favoring Merlin. Obviously, no body is convinced, not even himself.





	It's Not Favoritism!

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Man's Measure](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/391259) by Sentimental Star. 



> Status:  
> Single  
> Beta-less  
> Active  
> Who's interested?

Merlin blinked at the daggers in his hands. "This is...?"

"They're _daggers_ , Merlin," Arthur sighed, feeling genuinely sorry for his manservant's mentality.

Merlin sensing the tone, "I know that!" Arthur's eyebrow quirked up. "I'm just asking _why_."

Arthur sighed again. "Daggers are meant to be used in _fights_ , Merlin," Arthur answered, worried for his-

"I know that!" Merlin insisted. "I'm asking why _you_ gave _me_ the fancy daggers. _You. Me. Daggers._ " Merlin pointed at the three objects for extra emphasis.

"So you can _fight_ , Mer-"

"Arthur! Will you stop doing that?!" Merlin pleaded. "The condescending thing!"

"Okay! Okay. Well, what else do you want me to say?"

Merlin never brought his own weapons on their hunts, and he never wore armor. And instead of being grateful after given nice daggers, he's being stupid. Well, Arthur guessed he couldn't help that part.

Merlin narrowed his eyes and grinned. "You're _worried_ about me," he accused.

"I am _not_!" Arthur asserted, blushing. "I'm just avoiding having to lug your dead body to your mother in case you died."

" _Aww_ , Arthur I never knew you could feel this way! I feel so _special_ ," he taunted. "Is this _favoritism_ I smell?"

"What?! That's- I'm not- It's _not_ favoritism!" 

" _Right_ , right" Merlin feigned, too amused to sound convincing. Arthur just about had it with his manservant and began stomping away.

"Arthur!" Merlin called out from behind.

The prince whirled around to look at his servant. " _What_?" he growled.

"Thank you!" He stood, smiling widely and clutching the daggers pressed against his chest. For the rest of that morning, Arthur tried not to look excessively happy.

* * *

Lancelot perked from his practice routine with a sudden realization. "Where's the prince?"

All the other knights halted as well to look around. 

"Found him!" Gwaine called out, pointing to the outer fields. All the knight crowded up to watch the prince train his manservant in the distance. "Wow, personal training with the prince of Camelot," Gwaine jested.

"Aren't they training with the daggers Arthur gifted Merlin just this morning?" Lancelot couldn't help but add. All the knights nodded with acknowledging hums.

"For a _manservant_? Is that allowed?" a newer knight asked.

"They've always been like that. Oh! He saw us!" Gwaine hissed. Arthur marched back to the training ground, glaring at the group of idle knights, with Merlin trailing after, half tripping and dropping things.

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. "But... Isn't that playing favorites?" the knight asked in a hushed tone, confused at this new system. Gwaine quickly covered the man's mouth with a gloved hand.

"Shhh!! Don't let him hear you say that or-"

"I DO NOT PLAY FAVORITES!" Arthur roared.

"-that happens."

Arthur approached the group. "Merlin's too slow to keep up with you knights in training," Arthur explained, rather unconvincingly to the half listening knights. "Are you even listening to me?!"

"Yes, sire, we heard you the first twenty times," Gwaine answered with a yawn.

"It's not been twenty!" Arthur exclaimed.

"He's right,' Merlin chimed in. "I'd say about eleven."

"Merlin..." Arthur said threateningly. Merlin dropped all the equipment and ran for his life.

* * *

"MERLIN!!" Arthur called out as he rounded the corner and nearly knocked a maidservant over. "Oh! Are you alright?" Arthur asked, steadying the girl. 

"My apologies, my lord." She bowed, quickly recovered.

Arthur shook his head. "No, mine, uhh..."

"Gila, sire."

" _My_ apologies, Gila. Are you new? I'm not... very good with names."

She blushed. "I've been working for the royal family for about 3 years now..." she said quietly.

The prince's face began heating from embarrassment. "Oh! I'm sorry, it's just- there's a lot of servants. I'm actually looking for-"

"Merlin?" Gila supplied, helpfully.

"Yes, my idiot manservant. He forgot something in my chambers."

Gila held a hand out. "I can hand it to him, sire."

Arthur shook his head. "No, I can't trouble you any further than this."

But she just smiled. "No worries, my prince. _Anything_ for the Prince's Favorite."

"Well, if you- Wait, what?! My- _The Prince's Favorite_?!" Arthur almost shrieked.

Gila could barely stifle her giggles at the blushing prince. "Yes, it's common knowledge. Everybody knows it."

"No, I think there has been a...  _grave_ misunderstanding. You see, he is my personal servant, so it's only... natural that I remember his name," Arthur justified.

Gila wanted to point out that she had been King Uther's personal maidservant for years, and he still doesn't know she exists. She's surprised she still gets her wages every month. "Of course, sire," she smiled, unconvinced, and continued to the King's chambers.

Arthur, left completely baffled, grabbed the nearest servant. "Where is the," Arthur tried not to cringe here, " _Prince's Favorite_?"

"Oh you mean Merlin?" the servant answered without hesitation. "He was going to the armory just now, sire." With a quick bow, the servant strolled away, leaving the prince, mouth gaping and stunned.

* * *

"Sire... where's Merlin?" Guinevere asked.

Arthur almost spilled his wine. "He couldn't come, said he had something to do... Why?"

"Well, it's just that... Merlin _always_ comes along with us," she observed.

"Guinevere, our dates are supposed to be for us in the first place. Merlin can't come _every time_." Arthur explained, taking another sip of wine.

When Arthur lowered his glass, he found Guinevere staring wide-eyed at him. "We're dating?!" she yelped.

Arthur almost choked on his wine. "We aren't?!" 

She cupped her mouth in disbelief. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sire... I think there has been some sort of misunderstanding." She shifted, uncomfortably, backing up on the picnic blanket.

Arthur rubbed circles on his temples, not quite understanding. "What could you have possibly thought?! We've been on countless dates!"

"Well, it's actually been four," she pointed out. "And each time, Merlin was there," she hinted the implication.

"He's the extra! The third wheel. The one who sets stuff up!" Arthur illustrated using wild hand gestures.

"Right sire, but it's kind of hard to tell the difference," Guinevere noted his confused expression. "Because on these 'dates', you actually spend more time with him, than you do with me," she elaborated.

"That's not-!" Arthur paused, thinking a bit. "Oh."

"Right, so I always thought _I_ was the third wheel."

"Well, it's only because he talks a-"

"It's quite alright, my lord. I need no explanation," Guinevere interjected.

"No, Guinevere, it's not what everyone's been say-"

Guinevere held her hand, palm splayed open, up. "Sire. _Really_." She rose up. "I get it. I have always known you favored him more."

"Guinevere..." Arthur groaned. "I don't _favor_ Merlin."

"I'm alright," she reassured him, completely misunderstanding what he was saying. "I've also got Lancelot now, so I guess we're both happy." Guinevere smiled, bowed, and left the prince with his picnic and fresh heart break.

After several moments of shock, the prince snapped out of his trance. 

"Arthur!!" He jerked and turned to see his manservant running towards his lone picnic. 

"Merlin?" Arthur was still not entirely there.

"Hah... hah... I... am... a little... little late," he gasped, bent over and panting when he approached. Arthur stared at him, wide-eyed. Merlin straitened, "But I'm here now! Where's Gwen?" Merlin asked looking around, finally catching his breath. Then he frowned. "Was I too late after all?"

Arthur frowned. "I do _not_ favor you," Arthur declared. He stood up and left.

"Arthur? Arthur?! What about the picnic?!" 

* * *

 "Arthur, there has been an issue lately, and I fear it is time we address it," Uther declared later that day after a council meeting.

Arthur groaned and dropped his head against the table. "Father, not you too..."

"Arthur?"

"I swear. It's _not_ what it looks like. Merlin is simply a bit more concerning than most servants." Arthur jerked his head up. "It's not favoritism!"

"...That... was not what I wanted to discuss about it... But now that you've brought it up, I suppose _that_ issue has also gotten quite... out of hand."

"Father! I don't play favorites, _or_ favor Merlin, and Merlin is _definitely_ _not_ the Prince's Favorite."

Uther frowned. "I see this subject has gotten more overwhelming than I suspected. Perhaps I should handle this?"

"No, father..." Arthur groaned, remembering that his father's favorite way of solving problems always involved a chopping block.

Uther sighed, "Just as long as you're not too obvious with this... preference."

"Ughhh," Arthur groaned, face planting into the table again. Uther left him in the empty council room to lament in peace.

When the door creaked open again, Merlin's head popped in. He peered around the room and split into an open grin when he saw the grieving prince. "Ah! There you are! I came to ask for the rest of the afternoon off; Gaius needed me to help him with something." Merlin paused, eyebrows scrunched together. "Arthur? You okay?"

"I have no _preference_ ," Arthur groaned into the table, trying to convince himself now that he failed at convincing everyone else.

"What? You look rough..." Merlin observed. "I guess... I'll just leave you alone then." He slipped away and shut the door quietly.

* * *

"Hi Gaius, I think Arthur gave me the rest of the afternoon off after all," Merlin informed when he came in. 

Gaius hummed a note of acknowledgement. He glanced up to see his assistant's troubled expression. "What is it _this_ time?" he asked, looking back down at his work.

"I don't know, it's just-" Merlin plopped down on the bench across from the man. "Today's been _weird_."

"You're going to have to be a bit more specific than that," he muttered, swirling a brewing potion.

"Well this morning Arthur gave me a really nice blade."

"It's normal to receive a token of the prince's affections," Gaius offered, nonchalantly. He held the tonic over a flame.

"You wouldn't _know_ , Gaius. The royal family doesn't give tokens of _a_ _nything_." Merlin frowned, " _Then_ the knight's started teasing me about Arthur _playing favorites_. Which is _absurd_."

Gaius flipped a page in his book. "Oh, I'm _sure_ ," he mumbled with the stench of sarcasm, but Merlin continued on, not noticing.

" _Then_ a Gila came up to me and told me the prince was looking for his _Favorite_. I have no idea what that meant."

"The Prince's Favorite, I've _never_ heard of _that_ phrase before," he lied, holding the potion against a color chart in the book.

" _Then_ Gwen caught me after I finished packing up Arthur's picnic, and she told me that _misunderstandings_ were cleared, and I am now the only one in his _favor_. Which only confused me even more."

"Strange..." Gaius commented, completely uninterested.

"And when I went to find Arthur just now, I ran into the _King_ \- not literally of course - and he gave me this strange look. Then he _patted_ my shoulder as he _walked_ past me! And I think he muttered something like 'if only he weren't mentally afflicted'."

Gaius poured the liquid into a bottle. 

"What do you think this could mean, Gaius?"

He glanced up at his hopeless assistant. "I've _no_ clue. _Absolutely none_."

Merlin gave a pointed look at Gaius, almost catching the sarcasm that time. Almost. "You're not very helpful," he observed, frowning.

Gaius sighed deeply. "Perhaps you should ask Arthur then."

"Didn't you want me to help you?"

"Merlin, you've been rambling on about your day and have been absolutely no use to me other than amusement. Here," Gaius said, handing him an armful of potions. "Deliver these, and that's all the help I require from you."

Merlin frowned. "Just deliver them? Gaius, you're wasting my talents."

The old man smirked. "What talents?" Merlin frowned even harder. "I'm an old man, Merlin. I can barely walk across this room, let alone the entire castle. Do an old man a favor and just shut up, will you?" He walked to the herb cabinets a scooped a handful of Blisterworts.

Merlin pouted, arms crossed over his chest. "Fine, I guess I'll go resume my duties for the afternoon after the errands."

* * *

 

When Merlin opened the doors to Arthur's chambers, he found the prince lying face up on his bed, wide awake, staring at his canopy. "Arthur? What are you doing?"

"Contemplating," Arthur answered simply.

Merlin blinked. " _Ohh_ , big words _and_ deep thoughts. You haven't had dinner yet have you?"

Arthur rolled his eyes but didn't bother with a retort. "I didn't have a servant to bring it up."

"Right," Merlin nodded. "I'll go fetch that."

When Merlin came back, the prince still hadn't moved. "Okay," he sighed. "I brought your favorites and extra. You looked like you needed it."

Arthur's lips quirked. "Are you _worried_ about me, Merlin?" he jested, amusement clear in his tone.

"All the time," Merlin answered without thinking.

Arthur finally sat up and smirked at the manservant. "I must be very special, then," he interpreted, openly grinning. He slipped off the bed and walked to the table set with food.

"So worrisome, it's special and so special, it's worrisome." Merlin finished setting up the table and stood to the side, ready to attend. Arthur glanced at the empty chair across from him and then at Merlin. 

"Have a seat and help yourself, I can't possibly finish all of this by myself."

Merlin smirked. "Oh I'm sure you can. But I'd be happy to take up your offer." He sat down quickly before Arthur could change his mind.

"So today's been strange..." Merlin began to retell his story.

After several moments of chewing, staring thoughtfully at his food, and absently listening to Merlin's chatter, "Maybe there _is_ a bit of favoritism," Arthur muttered.

Merlin stopped rambling. "What?" he asked, mouth full.

"Nothing," Arthur went on taking another bite of his pork.

**Author's Note:**

> I... was just kidding about the relationship bit... I just need a beta reader.  
> On a different note, YAY!! I'm so glad my works are liked!! I really appreciate those who support me, and as always, go Merthur!


End file.
